


Cravings

by Albion19



Series: Kept Woman 'Verse [2]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Love/Hate, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albion19/pseuds/Albion19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maya wanders into the kitchen with a craving but she is not alone. Angry fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cravings

**Author's Note:**

> Just a reminder that this series is non linear.

She sighs, grumbling to herself as she lies awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her hands caress her belly in soft circles but it does nothing to sooth her. Maya sits up, throwing the covers back and she gets out of bed. Her eyes make their customary swivel around the shadows and satisfied that she’s alone she slips her feet into her slippers and stands, leaving her dressing gown on the end of the bed.

The craving had started two weeks ago and it had been driving her crazy ever since. A warm rich scent had reached her nose and since then she has been starving to taste it. But she has no idea what it is, had smelled it as she passed the kitchen but hadn’t entered because he had been in there.

Maya pads along the carpeted corridor, the floor sectioned off just for her: bedrooms, bathrooms, living room and kitchen. She avoided that room whenever she could, opting for the communal canteen because he never used it. Maya thinks he does it on purpose, using her kitchen, making sure that she’s eating the right things. Her mouth twists as she turns the corner and sees light coming from the open doorway. She stops, everything in her torso contracting uncomfortably at the thought of the kitchen’s occupant. Her eyebrows lower and she scowls, stepping forward. She doesn’t have to recognise his presence, she’s been doing that for months.

He’s seated at the large wooden table, bent over pieces of wood and a littering of neatly set out tools. Making something. He raises his head, smiling at her.

“Hi.”

Maya ignores him and heads towards the fridge, pulling it open to inspect the contents. As soon as she had stepped into the room that heavenly smell had infused her air and she breaths it in deeply. She starts to pull out whatever is in reach: butter, cheese, yogurt, juice, eggs and sniffs them. Nothing.

“Anything in particular you want?”

“No.” It was best just to give him an answer so he would get the message and leave her be. When he doesn’t answer she takes a peek at him from under her arm and sees that he’s back working on whatever it is. Maya looks back into the fridge and sighs, straightening up with a wince. She knuckles her lower back and moves to the cupboards, that smell still in-taken with every breath. She has to stop herself from sighing again.

She inspects every cupboard on the ground level, even looking at the tins before she puts everything back. It is there, it has to be. Something smooth and almost too rich to taste. She pulls a chair away from the table and sets it under the cupboards lining the walls. She steps up on it carefully and feels him watching her every move. She shifts around bottles of cleaning fluids and pauses, looking at them for a long time. Finally she takes a bottle of leather varnish down and reads the back of it.

“Is there any reason you’ve got that? I thought you were craving food?” He’s stood up, piece of wood between his hands.

Maya shoots him a look, mouth curling. “I’m thinking about slipping it into your drink.” She puts it back with a frown, her stomach twisting. Just for a moment she had the compulsion to unscrew the cap and inhale.

“Funny.” He moves around the table, face darkening.

“Yes it will be.” Maya feels him at her back and her skin sears at the proximity. She takes a deep breath and turns, preparing to get down but he’s in the way, looking up at her with dark eyes.   
“Move.” She speaks through her teeth, salvia on her tongue.

But he stays where he is, that hateful smile on his lips. “You might fall Maya. You're not as light as you once were.”

“Fuck you.” He doesn’t answer, just puffs a laugh as his gaze moves up and down her body. 

Her eyes roll up to the ceiling as her hand gropes behind her. Her fingers curl around a handle. She brings the bottle down on his head hard, the sound of it connecting with his skull unbelievably satisfying. The bottle flies out of her hand and smashes to the wall, splashing varnish all over it and across the floor.

They struggle awkwardly, Maya screaming at him and hitting brutally as he pulls her off the chair with a restrained force, his face red and snarling. The force of her attack makes him stagger back and he looses balance, slipping in the varnish. Maya feels all violence in her drain as she experiences gravity pushing on them and she gasps, body curling. But they never meet the floor. Instead she’s twisted around against the table by an unseen force. They remain still, panting.

“That was a stupid thing to do! Jesus Christ!” He pushes himself away from her belly but doesn’t let her go, instead he grasps her face between his hands. Maya whips her head back but he doesn’t release her.

“I don’t want to be near you! I don’t want to breathe the same air as you!” She struggles, fingernails cutting deep into his shoulders which makes him hiss, face twisting. “I hate you, I hate you. Dios, god please, godgodgod.” She can feel herself shaking with anger, tears prickling her eyes.

He stares at her for a long time, his breathing shaky. Finally he speaks, low and rough. “I know you do Maya, I know it every shitty second. You won't let me forget.”

“Never. As long as you’re alive.” She’s stopped struggling but her body is wound tight to spring.

“And will it be the same when she’s born? When she’s older and sees us together?” His eyes glitter, sad.

Maya shakes her head at him. “What do you expect? I can’t pretend and I can’t live like this. You’ve got to leave me alone.” If she is stuck here, and it is growing more and more likely, then she needed that distance to breathe.

“You’re mine, you’re _mine,_ ” he whispers it, almost moaning. He moves closer and for an agonising moment she thinks he’s going to kiss her. Instead he brushes his fingers down her cheek, across her nose, to her chin and then settles softly on her lips.

“No.” His fingertips breach past her lips as she speaks and she can taste him. A part of her is aware that she should be biting down, drawing blood, but instead her tongue licks across his skin. It only lasts for a split second but it’s long enough for his eyes to widen in surprise. Maya pulls her head back, her whole body flaming up in shame as she pushes him away.

“What was that?” There’s a clear humorous undercurrent to his voice as he looks at her with his brows raised. Maya can’t look at him, just wants to be gone but god the taste. She licks her lips and shakes her head. She steps her way to the door but stops as her path is blocked by the spreading puddle of varnish which she can’t jump over. Her shoulders slump and she needs to yawn. And taste it again.

“I want to go.”

“Why did you lick me?” he comes up behind her and Maya shifts on her feet, careful of the slippery surface.

“Why the hell would I lick you?”

“You’ve done it before.”

Her hands stiffen into claws and her shoulders hunch in disgust. Her eyes close, wanting to be alone. “I’m pregnant, you bastard, I have cravings and - and something on your fingers…” she can’t even finish.

“This?” She turns and sees that he’s holding up a small round tin, a cartoon bee on the front.

“...Honey?”

“No, not quite. It’s bee wax for polishing wood.” He flourishes his hand over the wood on the table. “I’m making a clock.” He offers it to her and she hesitates before snatching it from him. She prises the lid open and is greeted by a puff of deep, intoxicating bliss.

“Ay dios mio…it's like church.” She moans quietly and runs her fingers over it, the yellow wax in warm groves from his fingers, and she rubs it into her skin. 

"I know, that's what they make the candles out of." She looks back at him and sees he’s opening a cupboard and taking something down. “Here.” He puts a bottle of honey in front of her and steps back, watching her calmly as she takes it. Tin and bottle in hand she turns to leave. “Maya? I’ll leave you be but I want this place to be neutral territory.”

She doesn’t look at him, just rings her fingers around the wax. “For the baby?”

“Yes,” he sits back down behind her, chair scraping back. “Rest well.” The puddle at her feet seeps back into the bottle she had hit him with and her path is clear.

She flicks the cap on the honey open and squirts a strip onto her finger. “I bet you never do, do you Gabriel?” she doesn’t wait for his reply but walks back to her room, sucking on her substitute craving.


End file.
